The Color of Rain
by chef diamond heart
Summary: Seth's grown up and he's in love - with an outsider. Now he just needs to tell her a few things about himself...WINNER "Best Seth", JBNP Awards. WINNER of a JUDGE'S PICK AWARD Team SOB Rain Scene Challenge! Rated for hot-sweet tartness...
1. Chapter 1

Seth's grown up and he's in love – with an 'outsider'. Now he just needs to tell her a few things about himself…**Recipient of a Judge's Pick Award in the Team SOB Rain Scene Challenge!**

Rated for hot-sweet tartness...

**Standard disclaimer: **All things Twilight are the sole property of the divine Stephenie Meyers. This fan fic is purely for entertainment (mainly mine!) with no other gain. No copyright infringement is intended.

The Color of Rain is set in the AU created in my fic "Moonshadow" which explains some departures from the Saga – in my mind they are not intrusive (!) and knowledge of the parent story is not required to enjoy this one…Anyway, you've all read "Moonshadow" already, right?

**The Color of Rain**

Strange.

Somehow, whenever I had imagined looking into a woman's eyes and finding myself completely and irrevocably in love, I'd always thought they'd be brown eyes, or black, the eyes of a woman of my people.

These eyes were gray, very direct, and set in a face that would probably be described as _wholesome_. There was a light dusting of golden freckles over the bridge of her nose.

She looked kind of like Jenna Fischer from "The Office", Jenna Fischer with a touch of Milla Jovovich, maybe. She blinked and the gray eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled a little doubtfully at my entranced stare.

"Seth, have you met Lily Neal? She's the new Social Studies teacher for the middle grades." Emily's voice was blandly cordial, but her eyes were sharp and knowing, full of amused understanding. "Don't stare!" she mouthed fiercely where Lily couldn't see.

"Lily Neal," I repeated, "it sounds like…music."

The eyes looked away and a delicate flush made a new backdrop for the freckles as she murmured, "How gallant."

Emily plowed cheerfully on, "Lily just moved here from Texas, did I get that right? The school is lucky to have her. You know, Seth's a teacher too, of sorts."

I had to pull myself together and make some human-sounding noises to follow through on that introduction. "Er, 'of sorts' is right. I teach the old language two evenings a week to some of the kids, the ones whose parents force them to come. It's really more of a hobby than anything else."

Amazingly, she actually seemed to find this interesting and figuring out the students we had in common made the conversation flow pretty easily. I twitched in annoyance when Leah appeared at my elbow, claiming my attention.

"Time to play our part, brother-mine," she chimed sweetly. After a brief introduction, Leah gave a friendly nod to Lily and dragged me away, whispering, "She's cute!" once we were out of ear-shot.

"Hey, no poaching!" I warned playfully and got an exasperated eye roll and a snort for an answer. I was lucky to have a sister who was also a good friend, but before I could confide the startling rearrangement of my world, we had to compose ourselves for the real business of the evening.

We, meaning almost the entire Quileute tribe, were gathered at the Council Hall in La Push for the hand fasting party of my mom and her longtime boyfriend, Charlie Swan.

Mom had tried to side step this particular rite, maintaining that the idea of middle aged people 'getting engaged' – especially people who had known each other for ever and were marrying for the second time - was patently absurd. She was roundly shouted down.

There were many persuasive arguments to the contrary, largely concerning her position as a tribal elder, setting a good example by observing the traditions, honoring the memory of my late father blah, blah, blah.

Mainly, though, the Quileute Nation just likes an excuse to party.

Anyway, we all loved Charlie and wanted to make his inclusion into the tribe official. The formalities were dispensed with in almost indecent haste (honoring the traditions,_ ha_!) and the festivities were then pursued with gusto.

As the evening progressed my eyes involuntarily searched the throng, hoping for glimpses of the woman who had caught my entire attention with just one look. She was easy to spot, her dark gold hair stood out amongst the brunet shades of the majority of the crowd.

And she was tall, maybe five foot ten or eleven. How nice. At six six, I towered over most people, especially women. It would be a real pleasure to kiss someone I didn't have to stoop to reach. Of course, it would be a pleasure to kiss Lily, regardless.

She looked active, too. Strong. The possibilities of that, added to her height, were-. I had to laugh at myself: I'd exchanged maybe a dozen sentences with her and already I was thinking about…. Damn! Was I making myself blush?

It wasn't like I hadn't had girl friends; I'm not exactly cut out for monk-etude. But not a one, in the weeks or months we had been together, ever gave me anything like the sensation I had when those frank, gray eyes met mine.

You'd think, given the general atmosphere of revelry, that it would be easy to approach her again for a follow up of our earlier chat. Not so. It seemed I was hardly the only guy to find light eyes and golden hair appealing.

Well, I wasn't going to prowl like some lovelorn tomcat on the outskirts of the small group of admirers clustered around her. I played it cool instead, lurking just outside the double doors to the parking area and accosting her as she left.

"So, not quite like the old time Potlatches our people used to have, but what did you think?" I said a little too heartily as she breezed by me. She halted abruptly and I suddenly worried that I had frightened her, coming at her out of nowhere like that.

She didn't seem frightened, though, as I regarded her closely. She looked… thoughtful.

"Um, my degree's in cultural anthropology so I'm always interested in stuff like that. Maybe…you could tell me about it sometime?"

She smiled in the friendliest way and I felt myself sway with the effort to keep from putting my arms around her and kissing her then and there.

By some massive miracle I pulled myself together enough to make a date to pick her up after school on Monday and go for a bite to eat while we talked about Indian things.

Just thirty-nine hours to wait.

…………**.**

4:59 PM on Monday found me parked outside the La Push Reservation School leaning with elaborate casualness against my Blazer. My heart was hammering like it had on my very first date. One my mom had driven me on since I wasn't old enough for a license yet.

Luckily, a couple of my students distracted me by coming up to chat, so I didn't disgrace myself by jumping up and down and waving my arms when Lily finally stepped out the door. She looked around with a little anxious frown between her brows; her smile when she saw me was like the first sunny day after a week of rain.

The fear I'd had of lagging, uncomfortable conversation proved to be completely unfounded. Lily was easy to talk to and brimming with enthusiasm over finding herself in the Pacific Northwest.

I wanted to give her a personalized tour and as we drove around she sighed over the brilliant, varied greenness and the different qualities of gray that colored the sky and the rain. Things I knew, of course - they were part of me - but I had never really considered them. Funny how it takes an outsider to make you see such things about your own home.

"It's green for about fifteen minutes a year where I come from," she explained. "You have no idea how wonderful this is to me."

She was from an obscure little town on the Gulf coast, about which she only said that it was small, hot and boring, with mosquitoes the size of helicopters. La Push was about the farthest place from it that she could find and stay in the contiguous United States.

"Well, La Push isn't_ hot_…" I said dubiously and observed that our village didn't sound much different than where she'd come from. I couldn't really think why she'd trade one for the other, but I was glad that she had.

She just gave me an entrancing smile, saying that change was good, and proceeded to interrogate me. My rather limited life seemed to interest her; if the way she nodded gently, absorbing my answers to her questions, was anything to go by.

At her prodding, I told her of my position of journeyman cabinetmaker at Uncle Jem's workshop, a business I would inherit in due course since his kids weren't interested in fine furniture. (One's in prison, the other's a lawyer, go figure). Jem is kin in some degree, though the title 'uncle' is a courtesy.

The gray eyes shone as I described the satisfaction I got from taking raw lumber through the steps of planing, shaping, sanding and joining, then perfecting the beautiful finish until it felt like silk under my fingers.

"You love it, don't you?" she asked softly, "you make it sound so…sensual."

There she went, impressing me again. Most girls find wood working boring.

We drove along the 101 till we reached Granny's Café. "Burgers okay?" I asked, rather belatedly, I realized. "They make 'em great here."

"Sounds perfect!" was the enthusiastic reply. We stowed our coats, settled into a booth and placed our order. As we waited for the food, we continued questioning each other.

Lily had attended the University of Texas at Corpus Christie, "Just down the road from home," she remarked sourly.

She was twenty-five to my twenty-two. I chuckled inwardly - I was getting involved with an Older Woman.

_Involved_? Where was this crap coming from? She was just a friendly person, making contacts in her new community.

The subject turned to entertainment; she liked movies, especially old ones. After much wrangling, we agreed that _Young Frankenstein _was the funniest movie ever made.

"What's your favorite line?" I asked.

"Anything with 'Frau Blucher', '_whinny, whinny'_!" She chortled. "What's yours?"

"Uh, maybe, 'Werewolf?' '_There_, wolf!'" A pity I couldn't explain – _yet_, I promised myself - just why that one appealed to me. We made ourselves laugh to the almost-choking stage, wailing out, "Puttin' on the Ri-i-itz!"

The mobility of Lily's face fascinated me – she smiled easily and she could do amazing things with her eyebrows. And I really loved her laugh, no giggles or girly simpering, but a hearty, happy-sounding "Ha ha ha!"

I suspected that I was rapidly becoming what you might call _besotted_.

To finish, we split a piece of apple pie ala mode, though she wondered aloud how I could manage another bite after the triple bacon cheeseburger (rare), double fries and order of loaded nachos I had put away. No need to alarm her by admitting that I was planning on a snack when I got home.

We lingered over our crumby plates and Lily asked me about the language class I taught. I explained my parents' position in the tribe and how they had made sure that Leah and I learned all they could teach us about the old ways.

"I was never that dedicated to it as a kid, it was something for old people, you know? Then Dad died when I was fifteen-" she gave a little "oh!" of sympathy "-and after the first shock wore off, I decided that the best thing I could do in his memory was to really pursue what had been so important to him. And somehow I ended up becoming the expert." I gave a lame one-shoulder shrug.

"Is there room in your class for a beginner?" She asked, a little diffidently but with an intriguing glint in her eye. "It _is_ in my field and, um…" her voice trailed off. Absently, she twisted a strand of her pretty hair round and round her finger.

I remembered from a book I read on body language that this was a good sign.

"Your interest is…flattering. So…is it the anthropologist speaking?" I tried to sound casual and lightly flirtatious, but my heart gave a little thump. Anything I could do to establish myself with this woman was a priceless opportunity.

Her eyes held a sort of glow, humorous, challenging, hopeful and…hot?

"Ma-aybe," she murmured, a small smile playing on her lips, "or maybe it's the-"

"Can I get you anything else?"

How_ do_ waitresses always know the very worst time to come to the table?

The moment was lost in the bustle of discussing who would get the check (I won), paying and finding coats. Try as I might, I couldn't seem to make another opening and the drive to La Push was filled with commonplace small talk.

When we got back to the school and I parked alongside her Outback, (good, she'd need the four wheel drive around here) it seemed the courteous thing to walk her the four and a half feet that separated the vehicles. As she thanked me, she clasped my hand - not shook, _clasped_ - gave me a wistful smile and was gone.

The next morning I went for my usual run and just happened to pass by her little rental house at the time she'd mentioned _she_ liked to run. By the end of the week it was sort of a given that we'd go together.

That autumn was filed in my mind as The Season of Lily. I saw everything in my familiar, fairly routine life through new eyes as I experienced it all with her. She made outstanding company, listening, asking thoughtful questions, considering the answers I gave.

She was as good as her word and, rather bashfully, joined my little class. The language was a bit of a struggle for us both, (I'd never had a student with _no_ exposure to Quileute at all) but she worked hard. By her own admission the real draw was the stories and legends of the Old Times that I made part of the lessons.

I started practicing my delivery of the fireside tales, racking my memory for the things that impressed me most when I heard them. It was more important than ever to illustrate the spiritual connection my people had with our world and the vibrance of our history.

It wasn't lost on me that I was doing the ground work for the day when I told her about my true nature. I'd figure out how to handle Sam when the time came.

At work, I started setting aside some likely looking lumber with the idea of making her something, something special. Maybe she'd like a hope chest, lined with cedar. Or maybe I was just an idiot, reading too much into a friendship.

And yet…surely I wasn't mistaken at how pleased she always was to see me. At how, when with a group, her eyes would seek mine and hold the glance a beat longer than necessary. There had to be something there.

Maybe I was channeling old Star Trek re-runs, but there seemed to be a strange time warp effect in our relationship: I could barely remember a time when I hadn't known Lily. Then I would recall with a jolt that I'd met her less than a month before.

Morning runs, night class Tuesday and Thursday, a get-together or two after school for a beer with some of the teachers, every taste of her company just made me wish for more. I asked her to dinner, wanting to do something a little nicer than the burgers of our first date, if that even counted as a date. She said yes quickly, then blushed and grinned self-consciously.

The evening passed more rapidly than I would have believed possible, as we smiled at each other over the wineglasses and candles. The gold of her hair gleamed in the soft light and her deep green dress, the first I'd ever seen her in, brought out the creaminess of her skin. High heels made her even closer to my height.

Later, as we walked to her door I felt a charge of anticipation. I was determined not to make the mistake of rushing Lily; I couldn't expect her to be in the same place I was, not in such a short time. But a good night kiss was certainly permissible, practically required, on an occasion like tonight.

After a brief moment of hesitation as we stood on the porch, I leaned forward to brush a kiss on her cheek. Her head turned so that my mouth landed on hers instead. It started with the very gentlest of pressure, then I felt her hands on my neck and our lips parted simultaneously. My whole awareness was filled with the sensation of her soft, eager mouth and tongue.

A tiny whimper sounded in her throat and the awareness expanded to the satisfying feel of her in my arms. I pulled her closer so that we were pressed together full length and I heard a hum that I realized was coming from me. I had known it would be like this: kissing Lily was…all kinds of right, in every way.

Reluctantly, I loosened my embrace and tried to step back politely, but it seemed beyond my power to let her go yet, so I drew her to me once more. The fire building between us was exactly as I had hoped and imagined; now was not the time to follow through, but I couldn't bring myself to stop just yet.

After several long, delicious moments, she stiffened and leaned back to stare at me in consternation, "Seth! You're burning up!" she exclaimed. Anxiously, she felt my forehead and asked how I was feeling, much as she might to one of her students.

"Seriously, I'm great! Never better, thanks to you." I smiled and found her lips again. It wasn't just a line, either. Holding her against me, breathing in the scent of_ Lily _blended with the light floral perfume she wore, made me feel more alive than anything else I could call to mind. Even more than the first, well, the second time, I phased.

"The temperature thing, it's a, uh, genetic anomaly. Several of us have it." I explained as smoothly as I could. I hoped it would pass.

"Hmmm," she murmured uncertainly, "I don't recall anything like that from any of my text books…I'll have to do some research."

To distract her from that line of thought - my only motive, of course – I moved close again, giving whisper-light touches of my lips around her luscious mouth before settling in for a leisurely exploration. An action that left us both staring at each other wide-eyed and panting slightly when we finally parted.

I waited courteously till she had gone inside and a light came on in the front room before I walked off: I hadn't wanted her to see me furtively adjusting my pants as I went.

…………

"The thing is, bro, there's really no good way to go about this. And the fact that she's, er, not one of _us_ makes it that much harder." Sam said soberly.

I was trying to get some advice on how to approach Lily about my identity as a shape-shifting protector of my people. Sam knew all there was to know about wolf history; I hoped he might have some insights to offer. After all, it wasn't a revelation you could expect a woman to greet with cries of delight, although the tribal girls had generally embraced the idea pretty quickly. But as he pointed out, this particular circumstance hadn't come up very often.

The experience with Bella was nothing to go on since she had already known a large part of the story long before there even was a pack.

Embry's story wasn't exactly enlightening either: he had imprinted on a white girl, Beth, and very nearly blew it when he revealed his true nature. It was months before the poor girl stopped thinking he was some sort of psycho stalker. Things seemed to be moving along a little better for him lately, but it was still slow going.

It was heartening to have Sam's support in this matter: he had always been dead set against anyone but imprints knowing our secret. But the changes in the pack line-up had obviously made for other changes as well; Sam seemed to have mellowed over the years.

Just as likely, it was because I was the last unattached wolf. My brothers had always maintained that I would find my imprint some day; it was just a matter of time. I hadn't imprinted on Lily - something that had never really interested me anyway – but there was no doubt in my mind that she was The One. Since I knew it, so did all the other wolves.

Which didn't answer my question of how to tell her about myself, without making her think I was a nut case.

I probably should have paid more attention to Embry's situation.

…………

Lily openly sneered at what was served locally as Mexican food and became determined give a party with a Tex Mex theme. "It's the least I can do after everyone's been so nice to me."

Invitations were issued to the pack members and their mates as well as particular friends she had made among the teachers at the school. She made a special point of inviting my mom and Charlie. I got a peculiar, but extremely pleasant, tightening feeling in my chest whenever I thought of that.

My place was designated as the venue. I was living at our old house in La Push. While I was still in school, Mom and I had moved in with Charlie over in Forks, but after I graduated and started working I had come back. The place was way too big for me of course, but it felt right, somehow.

We were throwing a party. Wow. Well, technically, Lily was throwing the party and just using my house, but I liked the feeling it gave me, a feeling of, maybe, becoming a couple?

Saturday afternoon she showed up with an astonishing array of food: a huge pot of Pork Chile Verde to make tacos, pans of cheese enchiladas, homemade salsas, beans, a spiked fruit salad. Under her direction I got it carried in and arranged to her satisfaction. I wondered how she had made all of this in the dinky little kitchen at her cottage. She beamed with pleasure at the exclamations of the crowd.

Throughout the evening we would catch each other's eyes and smile. My awareness of her almost killed my appetite for her good food. Almost.

Lily cheerily shooed away the last of the guests with their friendly offers to help clean up and leaned back against the shut door. She pulled me by the hand to the kitchen and, giving a roguish grin, rummaged in a cupboard and produced a carefully concealed bottle of Patròn.

"See, there are rewards to being chef's helper," she said archly, dealing out limes, salt and shot glasses. I did a shot with her happily enough, but it wasn't like I really needed any incentive to be with her, or any additional intoxicants.

I was standing at the sink, scrubbing at an enchilada pan, when I noticed the sounds of Lily's cleaning activities had ceased. There wasn't much time to wonder what she was up to: her hands slipped around my waist from behind and I felt her lips on the back of my neck. Her soft, nibbling kisses traced a line up to the pulse point behind my ear; there she paused and I could hear her deep inhalation as she drew in my scent. That breath came out as a soft sigh and she draped the full length of her body against mine.

An expectant thrill streaked through me as I turned in her embrace to face her. A mischievous light sparkled in her eyes and her lower lip was caught lightly between her teeth as, one at a time, she took my hands and placed them on her sweetly curved ass.

Her face filled my vision, the expression changing from playful to vulnerable and full of need – the same need that electrified every part of me. We fell on each other's mouths with hard, hungry kisses. My hands roamed her ass and moved up her back, the feel of her firm muscles affirming every fantasy I'd had about her.

The sounds of soft, muffled exclamations filled the room and only increased our fervor. It was when she wove her hands in my hair and pulled my face into the curve of her neck that, somehow, I came to my senses. I just couldn't let things…go where they were obviously going without telling her the truth about myself. She had the right to know just what she was getting involved with.

Gently, I took her hands and enfolded them in mine, holding them against my chest. "Lily, before we go any farther, we need to talk."

The temptation was to take her into the living room and sit on the sofa, except I knew we wouldn't get any talking done there, so I pulled out a chair for her from the kitchen table.

I sat and, and – couldn't seem to get started. Mentally, I kicked myself for stupidly putting this conversation off till such a charged moment. Lily's delicate eyebrows rose inquiringly at my silence; I opened my mouth and heard myself say, as if from a distance, "There's this…condition I, well, several of us have and…"

Okay, so "condition" was totally, _completely_ the wrong term to use: she immediately jumped to the conclusion that I had HIV. I was horrified to see the rapidly changing expressions on her mobile, transparent face – shock, pity, fear (thinking about those wonderful kisses, no doubt) and disappointment.

Hurriedly, I tried to change directions by launching into the story of Taha Aki and the wolves who turn into men. It was not a notable success. Actually, _disaster _might be the appropriate term.

My fumbling explanation was met with a look of blank puzzlement which morphed into a wooden stare that I couldn't - didn't want to - interpret. My eyes dropped to the table and focused on my tightly knotted hands as I blundered painfully on.

"Huh!" An indignant huff interrupted my floundering recital.

I looked up. Lily's face had gone very white except for mottled patches of red that burned high on her cheeks. Those lovely gray eyes glittered with a frosty glare of pure anger. Her arms were crossed defensively over her chest and her legs were tightly crossed, one foot tapping agitatedly.

I remembered from a book I read on body language that this was not a good sign.

"Well, that's got to be the most _interesting_ brush off I've ever heard of," she said crisply, her mouth curling disdainfully. "You know, I _really_ don't get you. You've been giving me _all_ the signals ever since we met. Why did you do that? Running; taking me out; introducing me to your friends; if you really weren't interested, why didn't you just-." Her voice quivered here and she stopped.

"Lily –," I tried to break in, but it was like trying to hold back water from a burst dam as she plunged on.

"And then to feed me that line of –of _crap_! Seth, do you really think that some fairy story is going to make me be all okay with-with whatever you've been trying on me?" The words poured out of her in a torrent of rage and hurt, tears forming in her eyes.

She slapped her forehead dramatically, "Oh, I get it! Is it a bet or something with those buds of yours? I suppose_ they _turn into wolves too?" she sneered.

I was too aghast to even try to find a way to explain; it probably wouldn't have helped, considering the way I had basically stuck my foot in my mouth and swallowed it whole.

"How could you? You really went to work on me and then-." She pushed the chair back so hard it fell over as she stood. Like a storm wind she hurtled through the living room, grabbed her purse and slammed out the door into the night. I ran after her, feeling my world crumbling around me.

Lily wrenched open her car door and bounced in. She fiercely waved me away, hissing to just leave her the fuck alone. I was afraid that I'd make her angrier, so I stopped and let her go. With a feeling of utter defeat I watched her fishtail down the drive, reckless in her need to get away from me.

No telling how long I stood there, before I slowly stumbled back into the house. Absently, I righted the chair Lily had vacated and sat down. My head rang with her words and I wished desperately that I could have the evening back. It was getting light outside before I finally dragged myself off to bed.

That day I carefully packed up her pans and dishes and took them over to her little cottage. I knew she was inside, but she wouldn't answer my knock. I set the things down on the step and retreated. I just didn't know what else to do.

She didn't answer her phone when I tried to call her later. Or the time after that. Or the time after that. She didn't come out to run, either.

I spent the whole day in stunned amazement. I would have preferred to stay that way, but after twenty four hours I realized that I had apparently moved on to moping; a state which rapidly progressed to downright pining.

Me, Seth Clearwater, always upbeat and happy-go-lucky and I just couldn't hold it together in the face of a woman's rejection.

The fact that it was rejection that I had earned through being an absolute bungling ass didn't help any. I writhed inwardly over Lily's accusation that I was meanly toying with her feelings, which was far worse than if she hadn't been interested. I couldn't even begin to think of how to set things right.

The best description for my feelings might be _adrift._ I'd been so sure that things between Lily and me would work out, now it seemed as if nothing in life was certain, if I couldn't have her.

I've always been part of a community; we all knew and loved each other and helped out, but for once I felt cut off and lonely. My brothers respectfully did not phase while I was patrolling. At least I liked to think it was to give me some privacy; if it happened that they didn't want to be in my head, I could hardly blame them – I sure didn't want to be there.

A couple of times in the night I would phase, even when not on duty, and go check out her house, carefully thinking of other things. I'm lousy at that – I've seldom had thoughts I felt a need to conceal –so the others knew anyway, but tactfully they didn't mention it.

It seemed I could feel anguish emanating from the board walls of the cottage, but I put it down to wishful thinking on my part.

After a couple of days in this state, Uncle Jem sternly told me to take some time off. He claimed that my heavy sighs were stirring up the sawdust and ruining the finish on some in-progress furniture pieces.

I found that I missed my dad as sharply as when we first lost him; maybe he'd have had some advice for me. If not, I could have used his company anyway.

Even Sam, who's usually pretty sympathetic about woman trouble (he points out that it seems to be part of his job description), got sort of fed up with me.

I was lurking listlessly in his tiny office at the council hall, where he and Jake were trying to have a meeting about something. He growled that if I was so determined to wallow in self-pity I might as well make myself useful and run patrol in Opal Sector.

That suited me: Opal is one of the larger, and by far the most rugged, of the patrol regions. I knew it, and the other sectors, Agate, Jade, Onyx and Coral by heart of course, but a good run up and down the rocky hills and through the forest sounded pretty good to me.

Patrols were largely symbolic these days; there hadn't been any action to speak of for ages. Any bloodsuckers who ventured near pretty quickly decided to venture elsewhere. But we kept it up, if less rigorously than in years past, because, well, because we're Protectors and that's what we do.

The weather was in sync with my mood as well; a massive winter storm was approaching from the Pacific. I'd organize my circuit to take me by the cliffs, where we went diving in the summer, so I could get a good look at the system as it came in.

…………**.**

Sometimes it seems that life is simpler as a wolf. I could certainly sympathize with the Protectors of legend who took to the forest after some life shattering event, never to return. I played with the thought of becoming the source of a series of tall tales: The Demon Wolf of the Hoh Forest, spreading terror wherever-.

Naw. Who was I kidding? I'm not the terrorizing kind.

It was easier to distance myself from my troubles, though, and just _be_ for a while.

The trees thinned where they came close to the cliffs and I drew a deep breath to pull in the smell of the ocean. I sensed a human ahead of me in the distance. Tourists! They liked the idea of storm watching, but mostly didn't have any idea how dangerous it could get up here. Like right now, with the storm of the century brewing and hurricane force winds likely.

I loped forward, rejoicing in the violence of weather. The figure before me on the cliff was barely visible through the mist and rain; a sudden gust of wind caused the spectator to stagger and brought with it a familiar scent: it was _Lily_!

Holy freaking hell! What was she doing? Didn't she know-? The thoughts formed in my mind and as quickly vanished as I raced through the pelting rain, the individual drops feeling like bullets as I sped into them. I didn't stop to think about my wolf form; my only concern was to see that Lily got away from the treacherous cliff.

Unbidden, a long howl of warning escaped from my mouth. She turned, her eyes widened and her face blanched in terror. Her hands were held out in front of her, as if to fend off the monster bearing down on her. With shaking legs she stumbled backwards, getting ever closer to the edge.

Gathering my haunches under me, I leapt toward her, instinctively phasing in mid-air. I tackled her and once my arms were around her, I rolled us both over and over till we were a safe distance from the precipice.

"Ah! Gunh! Uff!" Wordless exclamations sounded forth as she struggled to catch the breath my actions, not to mention my appearance, had knocked out of her.

Still holding her, with the length of our bodies pressed together, our eyes met; our faces were so close I could feel her breath as she choked out, "Seth! That was – it _was_…you! It's all…_true_! I-I didn't know you'd be so-." Her lids fluttered down and her head fell back against the ground. She wasn't unconscious; she just…checked out for a minute.

An icy wave of rain brought her back and she struggled against me, sputtering out, "Can you get off me, please." Her tone was not especially cordial, but all things considered, I thought she was taking the situation quite well. I released her and scrambled to my feet to stand over her, ready to offer a hand as she got up.

Her gaze started at my feet and traveled slowly up my legs, paused for a long second, then flashed up to fix firmly on my face.

I could almost _feel_ her effort to not move her eyes for a second look. I smirked inwardly; I'm not the sort who checks out other guys 'nads, but I have been given to understand that I'm rather…striking, in certain ways.

"Y-you're naked," she stammered, somewhat obviously.

"My clothes don't just pop in and out of existence when I change, you know!" My tone was the only dry thing about me as a gust of wind dashed another blast of rain against us. Lily winced at the chilly spray, but I had reason to be grateful for the rivulets of cold water running down my body.

I turned partially away, bending to retrieve the track shorts tied to my ankle. As I moved to put them on I knew she was staring, I could sense her studying me, her eyes sliding along my back and over my ass. My own eyes flicked to hers, she saw me looking and blushed, then resolutely turned her head in the other direction. Her chin jerked up defiantly.

Nice to know I'd made an impression.

I didn't want to jump to conclusions about any outcomes, but I felt a certain confidence return and flow through me. I could make this woman mine, after all. _Go carefully, Seth_, I told myself.

Proprieties satisfied, I helped her to her feet. Lily was drenched and shivering, she needed to get home, quick.

"Where're you parked?" I asked.

She just shook her head. Of course, no car: she'd been out walking. Her house was over two miles as the crow flies, by road even farther.

"Hang on," I ordered and scooped her up in my arms, ignoring her faint protests. I took off through the woods.

As a man I didn't have the same speed as I did in wolf form, but I was fast enough to make Lily squeak in alarm and duck her head into my chest. I couldn't help showing off a little, making sure the ride was smooth while dodging branches and other obstacles as we went. Hard to tell if she was impressed, but she did relax in my arms after a few moments

All too soon, for me, that is, I squelched up to her cottage and halted. I was reluctant to let her go, who knew when I'd see her again? She cleared her throat meaningfully; I dipped and set her feet on the ground. She turned and marched up the three steps to the little porch. With her hand on the doorknob, she paused, and then looked back at me.

"You better come in and get warm," she muttered, not meeting my eyes. Without replying, I followed her into the tiny front hall. I was plenty warm, of course, but I wasn't going to pass up what might be my last chance with her.

"Stay there," she ordered curtly as she kicked off her shoes into a mushy heap beside the door. In sock feet she disappeared into the tiny bathroom and reappeared holding towels. These were passed to me at arm's length while she ostentatiously averted her face.

"Drop those shorts and dry off. I'll fix something hot to drink after I change." Before our fight of the other night I would have tried out my lounge lizard impression of Billy Joel's "Don't Go Changing" to get a laugh from her. For now I just followed instructions in silence.

From there I went into the living room. It was freezing in here; there were only ashes in the little wood stove. I shoveled it out and soon got a small blaze going. No easy feat while dressed only in a towel sarong, but I managed.

"That was quick," I heard her voice from behind me, "I still haven't got the knack of fire building, it wasn't a skill I needed much in Rockport. Thank you."

Lily handed me a steaming mug and motioned for me to sit in the rocker across from the sofa. She sat hunched over, still racked with shivers periodically, and looked at the flames through the little glass door of the stove. Her hair was still damp, the marks of the comb plain where she had raked it back from her face. She was wearing baggy leggings topped by an over-sized, paint-stained thermal shirt and absurdly large fleece slippers on her feet.

She looked beautiful.

I took a long drink of the honey-sweetened tea and peeked at her from the corner of my eye. She was looking at me, too; our eyes slid away guiltily.

The silence thickened.

I forced myself to speak, "Lily, please believe me, I wasn't trying to make fun of you or-or tell you I don't want you, because I really, really do, you know." She still wouldn't look at me and my voice dried up.

"So…wolves who turn into men, huh?" her tone had a distant quality to it.

"It's kind of a lot to accept, I know. I -," she cut me off with a gesture.

"Let me finish," she said quietly. "I'm…ashamed of myself, Seth. All my life I've wanted, wished, _hoped_ that…well, magic was real; that some people knew more about certain things and had access to power that the rest of us didn't. That's a big reason I went into anthropology.

"Then I find it – and I just push it away. I-I acted _narrow-minded_!" The last words came out as a gasping squeak.

Well, at least she wasn't mad anymore; but the confidence I had felt earlier started to leak away again. It seemed I was just a research specimen; it must have been the tequila kissing me that night before, well, _before_.

She went on, "I felt so bad about how I acted the other night, I've been afraid to face you. I'm sorry I accused you of trying to make a fool of me, you've never been anything but super nice and friendly to me, so I don't have any reason to think that you'd try to make fun of me." She gulped and was silent for a moment.

Nice and friendly, huh? All my hopes were circling the drain, but fast.

"The worst part is that I was afraid I'd blown it with you by being such a bitch about it all." Her voice quavered pathetically.

Hope surged again._ She_ was afraid? Afraid she'd blown it with _me_?

I couldn't keep quiet any longer. "Lily, it was entirely my fault, I should have picked a better time to bring it up, before things got so…heated. You must have thought I was crazy."

A little smile twitched on her lips, "We-ell, I was trying to decide between running away, back to Texas, and just taking you, crazy and all, when Emily came to see me."

"Emily," I said flatly. In all my flailing around for counsel, I hadn't even considered enlisting Emily's aid. How stupid can you get?

"She told me…some things. And that almost no one outside the pack and their mates knows, which certainly makes sense, and that it's a special honor to be included.

"Then she mentioned that she liked to walk up on the cliffs to help clear her mind. That's how I ended up there today. I probably wouldn't have gone if I'd known how the weather would be-."

A laugh erupted in spite of me and I broke in, "Sam sent me to patrol that same area. I think we've been set up!" I sobered up quickly, and explained hastily, "Everybody's kind of in everyone else's business here, sorry."

She smiled softly and said, "I'm from a small town, too, you know. I'm used to it. I think it's kind of nice, really. Your friends care."

Another shiver racked her. "I can't seem to get warm," she murmured, pulling up her knees and wrapping her arms around her legs.

I could help with that. I hitched up the towel and went to sit beside her on the sofa. Tentatively I put an arm around her shoulders.

"The heat, it must be part of…the, um, wolf thing. You'll have to tell me about it sometime."

I murmured a promise to do that as I pressed a kiss into her hair.

Lily curled up against me and slid her long, lovely legs across mine. I shifted slightly, trying to adjust for the fact that I was getting aroused. How crass that would be: we just make up from a huge misunderstanding and I start poking her leg with a big old boner.

She seemed determined to make me give myself away as she snuggled in closer. Oh crap, she was practically on top - _oh_. Her arms slid around my neck and she crushed her lips against mine avidly; deliberately, she pushed her thigh against my now throbbing dick.

Our previous kisses and touches had been wonderful and promising, but nothing like this. Lily was the only girl I'd ever told my secret to, the only one I'd ever wanted to tell. The sense of freedom was exhilarating, a turn on in its own right. Add in the fact that I was with _Lily_…

My other arm wrapped around her and I pulled her to me tightly. Hastily I loosened my grip: I always have to remind myself that I'm much stronger than most people.

The answer was a muffled chuckle and the words, "You don't have to be so careful with me, I won't break." Within seconds we were devouring each other's mouths with bruising force.

One hand stole under her loose shirt, she wore nothing underneath. She moved and stretched a bit, as if seeking more contact. I cupped her breast, it filled my hand perfectly, and I rubbed my thumb over her stiffening nipple. Impulsively, I ducked my head and mouthed her through the soft fabric. She made a little sound in the depth of her throat and the wolf inside me rumbled his satisfaction.

"Lily, sweetheart," I whispered, "we can make each other feel a whole lot better if we go into the bedroom." Her answer was to slide off my lap and stand, holding out her hand. I got up, still clutching the towel. Her fingers met mine and uncurled them from the terry cloth.

"You won't be needing that," she assured me with a meaningful smile. I let the towel drop to the floor. Or almost, any way: it got hung up for a moment as if it was hanging from a hook on the wall. We both snorted with laughter and then she practically dragged me to her room.

Once there a thought struck me, "I, uh, didn't bring any, um…"

"I have some," she said smugly, taking a box of condoms from the nightstand drawer. Waving it playfully, she said, "It's got your name on it." She took one out, then gave me an impish grin, and took out several more.

Silence again, but the quality was entirely different than before. We stood a mere hair's breadth apart; I could feel the zing of attraction between our bodies, as potent as if we actually touched.

"You've got me at kind of a disadvantage," I said softly and pulled up on her shirt. Obediently, her arms lifted for me to draw the shirt over her head. I had no notion of where it landed. She was as beautiful as I'd known she'd be: her enjoyment of physical activity showed in the firm planes of her muscles, fit yet feminine in every way.

My thumbs slipped into the waistband of her leggings as I drifted my lips along the silky skin of her throat. Slowly I eased the pants down, down as I trailed kisses over her chest and drew a line with my tongue between her breasts. Lily's breathing sped up and her fingers plaited themselves into my hair, clutching me to her as I lavished her with lingering open-mouthed kisses.

I sank to my knees and pulled her leggings all the way to her ankles. She still had on the silly-looking slippers. Something that might have seemed comical at another time struck me now as being very touching: she was so unselfconscious, so open to me. It made even fuzzy slippers seem erotic.

Leaning in, I nibbled at the sensitive skin below her navel as I worked my way down; I could tell by the shiver she made that her anticipation was building at the same rate as mine. I looked up, her lips were parted and her face was a picture of rapt wonder as she gazed down at me. Making a hard point with my tongue, I drove it into her slit; she gave a jerk and the sweetest little moan. I did it again, same reaction.

Nudging her legs apart for better access, I kept up the flicking of my tongue, till at last she whimpered, "I can't stand up any more!" and sank to the bed. With a growl I buried my mouth in her mound; the sound of her sighing, "O-o-o-oh-h," swirled in my head as I savored the taste and scent of her.

After a few long moments – some of the best of my life - Lily raised my face with her hands. "Seth", she gasped, "there're so many things I want to do with you, but…I-I can't wait. Come here." She pulled me up to hover over her; one arm went around my neck and she kissed me ravenously.

I could feel the fingers of her other hand walking themselves up and down my inner thighs, almost - but not quite – making contact with my now burning erection. Every touch of a fingertip was like a tiny electric shock and I twitched against her with each one. With a muffled exclamation she wrenched her lips from mine and indicated the condoms on the night stand with a little sideways nod of her head.

What a woman.

I swallowed hard and for once I was glad of the desensitizing quality of the latex as I rocked my aching hard-on into her. I'm told I have remarkable stamina - part of being a wolf, I guess - but I'd never wanted a woman as urgently as I did Lily. I drew out every heart-scalding second until at last I was completely gloved in her soft, sweet warmth.

I gave an experimental thrust. And another. "How do I make this good for you?"

"Take me…hard," she rasped in my ear, "I-I like that. I want to feel…all of you, deep inside me."

I'd have done anything she asked, even if it hadn't been what I wanted myself, what every molecule of my body was screaming for. Even more thrilling, she already trusted me enough to tell me exactly what she wanted.

Her fingers dug into my ass, encouraging me on. Our bodies surged together, building a savage rhythm that forced grunts and huffs from our mouths, the volume escalating as our momentum grew. Her nipples felt as hard as thimbles against my chest as our bodies churned together with increasing frenzy.

The fierce clasp of her arms and legs around me tightened as her body arched into mine. For one moment she grew very still, then I could feel her rhythmic contractions around me, keeping time with her sobbing gasps.

Her breath was still ragged as she unlocked her legs from around my back and clamped them to my hips. She gave a side-to-side rocking motion and pushed her palm against my shoulder. "Roll over," she murmured in a husky voice. I held her tightly and did as commanded.

The movement and shift of weight, the incredible sensation of her body bearing down on mine made me cry out. Lily's gray eyes glittered with triumph at my response. What a magnificent sight she was: hair wild, eyes glowing feverishly, chest heaving, lips red and swollen from our ferocious kisses.

Those strong runner's legs propelled her vigorously up and down my length. Her breasts bobbed enticingly and I reached up to fondle them, rolling her raspberry pink nipples between my thumbs and fingers. A little corner of my mind admired the contrast of my russet-colored hands against her white skin as I reveled in the satiny feel of her.

"Show me," I whispered hoarsely and she knew just what I meant. The fingers of one hand slipped between her cleft and her eyes closed involuntarily. My grip slid down her flanks to her hips, holding her still as my cock jack-hammered into her. Through slitted eyes I watched her face change, from a look of intense concentration to the astonished grimace of joy. With a high-pitched moan she fell forward to rest her head on my chest and she wailed out, "Oh, oh, Seth!"

Hearing her call my name as she lost herself in her pleasure completely did me in. All the fire that had been building in me gathered and rose and crested; my being was lost in a white-hot pulsing of ecstasy that lasted a moment and an eternity.

We lay in a pile of tangled limbs as our breathing finally eased. With simultaneous groans we separated, reluctantly. After I took care of the condom, we settled back down; Lily had her head on my shoulder and one leg thrown across my body.

Between searingly sweet kisses she murmured, "Seth, from what little I know about it…wolves mate for life. And, um, Emily mentioned something about - she called it 'imprinting'? Did you, I mean, is that -?"

Of course. I had been sort of waiting for that question. "No, I didn't imprint. I just…no. Disappointed?"

"Huh uh," she said with a smile in her voice, "no disrespect intended, but that sounds a little, um, creepy?"

"Well, it's certainly _different_, from what I've been through. In the minds of my brothers, it's a wolf thing." I added hastily. "I…never really wanted that, imprinting. I wanted to do it the old fashioned way, to have a-a choice. Find the right girl, let the relationship grow…you know."

I laughed a little sheepishly. I was more than a bit worried about the revelations I was making, but I had to get it out there, so she'd know. "But the joke's on me, I guess. That night at Mom and Charlie's party, I saw you…and it turned out I didn't have a choice after all."

She rose on one elbow to look me in the face, her expression was unfathomable. "You mean like…love at first sight?"

I nodded and shrugged apologetically.

She threw back her head and laughed, that happy "Ha, ha, ha!" that I always liked so much. I wasn't entirely sure how to take her reaction.

The gray eyes that I loved, the eyes with all the colors of the rain in them, looked joyfully into mine as she exclaimed, "What a _relief!_ I thought it was just me!"

…………

Author notes:

HUGE thanks to** leelator **– talented author of the wickedly funny fic 'How to Seduce a Werewolf'- for previewing, commenting, making suggestions and adding a jillion commas.

Thanks also to **mrs_n** who gently told me of a location discrepancy in 'Moonshadow' and then kindly gave me the name of a suitable establishment for Seth and Lily's first date.

And, as always, HUGS to my deputy Muse,** SassenachWench**, a woman of astounding patience & generosity!

My apologies to the Quileute Nation for the liberties I have taken with their traditions.

*Embry's disastrous imprinting on Beth is a sub-plot to **mellyfrisco6**'s darling fic, 'Dealing with the kangaroo'. Check it out.

*Anyone who would like to know more of Emily's sage and witty advice to pack mates should read **LJ Summer**'s excellent 'Wolf Girls 101'


	2. Chapter 2

**Standard disclaimer: **All things Twilight are the sole property of the divine Stephenie Meyers. This fan fic is purely for entertainment (mainly mine!) with no other gain. No copyright infringement is intended.

I apologize for the rather extreme length of the Lily POV – give the blame to **leelator** (author of "How to Seduce a Werewolf") and her demands of "I want to know more" and "what did they say here?" etc etc. Give her the credit, too: without her insistence this wouldn't be half the story it is, either in length or interest!

**My apologies to the Quileute Nation for the liberties I have taken with their traditions…**

**The Color of Rain**

Lily POV

There was a last round of hugs and best wishes; then I got in the car and prepared to pull away from the world as I knew it: heat; endless blue skies; the wide, flat expanse of the Coastal Bend.

Resolutely, I fixed my gaze on the road ahead and drove off with a smile, I wasn't about to let the sudden onslaught of emotion show as I made my way to a new life in La Push, Washington. Mom, step-dad, sister, nephews, my best friend Joanie, some neighbors from the street where I grew up, all were well out of sight before I pulled over and gave into tears.

It wasn't regret or second thoughts, just an acknowledgement that the girl I had been was being left behind and that home would no longer be _home_, just a place to visit.

One face had not been among the well-wishers. That was fine. Tom hadn't understood my need to find a larger life or why his increasingly broad hints of the "house-dog-baby" variety had failed to convince me that paradise could be ours for the taking in Rockport, Texas.

Iliked Tom; I was very fond of him, actually. But liking and fondness weren't enough for the life he wanted with me. After about fifty conversations that always seemed to begin and end with, "What the fuck, Lil? Why are you doing this?" I had asked him to stay away.

A quick swipe to my eyes, a swig out of my bottle of Coke (bad idea: it brought on a round of painful hiccups) and I got under way in earnest; I planned to be in San Angelo before nightfall.

…………

Why, _why_ had I let myself be talked into this? I looked around the council hall feeling wretchedly out of place. Irene, one of the teachers with whom I had struck up an acquaintance, had only said it was a tribal gathering and a good opportunity to meet people. Upon arriving I had found out that it was the engagement party of some complete strangers. How mortifying!

In an attempt to be inconspicuous, I shrank against a wall near a display of flags bearing tribal motifs. The atmosphere of camaraderie was quite inviting and for a few minutes I was able to lose myself in people watching.

The anthropologist in me observed that the sounds of community are similar wherever they occur, it seems. I had a pang of loneliness which I quickly suppressed; the overheard snatches of conversation and comfortable laughter made me feel very far from home. It wasn't that the locals had been unfriendly, hardly that, but there was always the background awareness that they belonged and I was…foreign.

Well, I had wanted an adventure and I was having it. To be sure, sometimes I felt as if I was playing an unscripted part in a _Northern Exposure_ rerun, but on the whole it was good.

The reservation school didn't pay all that well, but they had been conveniently willing to overlook the meagerness of my resume. The first few weeks my classes had all seemed to be a sea of bronze faces and black hair; then, as my initial nervousness – not to say terror - wore off, I was able to pick out a look of bright interest here, a mischievous grin there, a sullen look slowly changing to one of remote approval. Suddenly, what had been a mass became individuals and I began to relax just a bit.

So here I was. As absorbing as these musings were, after a few minutes I became aware of the curious looks I was attracting from the legitimate party goers and my discomfort resurfaced. No one looked annoyed or put off, but still it reminded me of my outsider status.

I was trying to negotiate the crowd – whoever the couple was they certainly seemed to be popular – with the idea of making a discrete exit when I felt a hand on my arm.

"It's Lily, right? Remember me? Emily Uley. We met the other night at the school board meeting." I looked down into the cruelly ravaged features of the speaker. Hard to forget this woman who was smiling so affably at me: I wondered again what had caused such injuries to a face that had obviously been very pretty at one time. Hastily, I explained my _faux pas_ and was quickly reassured as to the nature of the occasion.

"Really, it's no big deal; a hand fasting is an old custom but hardly a tribal secret or anything." One half of her face smiled pleasantly. "Everyone's welcome."

If I recalled correctly, her husband seemed to be a chief or something, so probably she was a good authority on local etiquette. Emily continued, "I'll introduce you around, we're pretty informal here. As a matter of fact, there's the son of one of the honorees. Seth!"

My self-appointed sponsor was beckoning at a small group of kids I vaguely recognized from school. Talking to them was a very tall young man who looked up, smiling, at Emily's call; his glance moved from her to me – and the world stopped.

_I love you_. _Yes, _you_. I love you._

The world restarted with a jolt. I gulped and found myself smiling self-consciously into the brown-black eyes. Mercifully, I hadn't spoken aloud; no one reacted to the words that had shouted themselves in my mind.

"Seth, have you met Lily Neal? She's the new Social Studies teacher for the middle grades. Lily just moved here from Texas, did I get that right?" Emily's voice seemed oddly distant. My hand was engulfed in a massive handshake. His touch seemed extraordinarily warm, but then I had been sort of chilly ever since I arrived in Washington.

He was all _kinds_ of hot, really. Not to mention that it was a treat to meet a man significantly taller than me; add in dreamy dark eyes, with the kind of eyelashes any woman would kill for, and a melting smile.

"Lily Neal." he said thoughtfully. "It sounds like…music." He was looking at me with such warmth that I felt my knees grow positively weak, something I had always dismissed as a device of romance novels. I blinked and realized I was blushing under the intensity of his regard. I heard myself making appropriate responses while my mind clicked along frantically.

_Dear God, please,__PLEASE__let him be single! Surely Emily would have mentioned it when she introduced us if he were attached. _

"You know, Seth's a teacher too, of sorts."

"Really?" I asked, with devastating brilliance. _Those looks _and_ brains?_

"Er, 'of sorts' is the operative term here. I teach the old language two evenings a week to some of the kids, the ones whose parents force them to come." He shrugged and gave a self-deprecating grin. "Very informal; it's really more of a hobby than anything else." We exchanged a few commonplace remarks; I found myself hanging on every word.

_Is he the type that would mind if a woman asked him out?_ _I cannot _believe_ I'm reacting like this!_

Seth's arm was claimed by a tall, superbly fit young woman who raked me with an appraising glance, a slightly mocking smile on her lips. "I don't believe I've met your…friend," she told him rather archly.

_Who's this girl? She has a very proprietary air… Oh, his _sister_! _There was a knowing look in Leah Clearwater's eyes as we were introduced; I wondered just how many women were hopelessly smitten with her brother.

Wistfully, I watched Seth – what a quaint, but manly sounding name – being towed away by his sibling. The rear view was quite worthwhile, I noted. He cast a look back at me that I couldn't interpret. I found myself hoping the ceremony wouldn't take too long.

Emily murmured something and handed me off to a heavily pregnant woman who kindly pointed out the participants and briefly explained the proceedings. "The bride-to-be is Sue Clearwater, standing with her kids, Leah and Seth. Her intended is Charlie Swan-"

"He's not Quileute?" I broke in.

"No," replied my companion, a Rachel somebody, "but he might as well be, he spends so much time here and fits in so well." She gave a sweet, but tremulous smile, remarking that this Charlie had been her late father's best friend.

"Dad would have been so pleased," she sighed and continued, "the girl with all the hair is Charlie's daughter and that's my brother Jacob, her husband. He'll be officiating now that Dad's gone. The others are the witnesses to the couple's intention to marry by the laws of the tribe. Witnessing events like this is a solemn duty; by tradition it's a paid position, but it's quite an honor to be included."

Inspiration struck: "Um, don't the spouses of the bride's children participate?" I asked with a carefully artless tone.

Surely it was my imagination that Rachel's lips twitched as she replied, "Oh, I think Dee stayed home with Hatsy… that's Leah's other half and baby girl. And I believe Seth's…" maddeningly, she paused and scanned the crowd before concluding, "Seth's between girlfriends just now." Air rushed into my aching lungs; I hadn't realized I was holding my breath.

The crowd quieted and my companion thoughtfully provided a whispered running commentary of the passages that were spoken in Quileute. The indulgent chuckles in response to what must have been blunders on the part of the non-tribal participants were heart-warming and spoke of great affection.

Rachel must have thought I was the most cordial person in the world as I thanked her effusively for her tutorial at the end of the ceremony. The scholar in me was grateful for the insights into tribal custom, but I was even more glad of the unspoken information that apparently Indian and white marriages were sanctioned.

Mentally, I slapped my head. Here I'd met a man half an hour before and I was already at the altar with him in my mind! Next thing I knew I'd be naming our children.

_But first we need to have a honeymoon…_

I kept looking for an opportunity to just casually find myself in proximity to Seth Clearwater but I was thwarted at every turn; now that the formalities were over I seemed to be the center of attention.

It was hard to fault the hospitality of the Quileute people, but I developed a strong feeling of solidarity with Queen Elizabeth as I shook hands, smiled, repeated my standardized bio, discussed how different the weather was from my home and politely accepted more plates of food and cups of violently-colored punch than I wanted.

Kids from my classes introduced their parents and I met the few elders who were not on the hiring committee. And there seemed to be any number of young to young-ish men who wanted to make my acquaintance, which might have been welcome at any other time, but just now…I had to force myself to give gracious answers as my eyes discretely scanned the crowd for the man who had captivated me with one look.

At last, reluctantly, I had to leave; the hall was emptying and I hadn't even seen the object of my sudden, blinding affection for a while.

"So, not quite like the old time Potlatches our people used to have, but what did you think?" The voice at my shoulder was the slightly husky one I had been hoping to hear all evening.

Clutching my keys so they wouldn't jingle in my shaky hands, I stopped and turned toward him. _Yup, just as good looking as I remembered._

"Um, my degree's in cultural anthropology so I'm always interested in stuff like that. Maybe…you could tell me about it sometime?" Was that too much of a hint? Just enough?

_What is happening to me? I run almost three thousand miles from home partly to get some distance from an unwanted relationship, only to find myself completely enthralled by a stranger that I've spoken with for maybe ten minutes! I don't even _believe_ in love at first sight! _

He considered for a moment while I quietly ground my teeth, "Things like that go better over some food and a beer…is Monday after school good for you?" My head was nodding like a bobble-head doll's.

The steering wheel on my Outback was the recipient of a big silly grin on the short drive home. I glanced at my watch; wa-a-ay too late to call Joanie back home. And way too early to tell anybody, even a lifelong best friend, about my newly altered reality.

But he wanted to see me! I did a little happy dance in the car seat, causing my vehicle to veer crazily on the road. Hastily, I pulled myself together and got the car back in the proper lane.

How on _earth_ was I going to wait till Monday afternoon?

…………

"Is there someone else joining us?" I asked, hoping I didn't give away how disappointed I was at the prospect of sharing Seth's company.

"No, nobody. Why?"

"You ordered so much food…I just wondered."

He blinked and hastily explained that he'd skipped lunch.

We sat in the noisy, warm coziness of the little café, eyes locked as we went about the business of getting acquainted. I'd offer a little and then ask a question of him, wondering if I gauchely showed how absolutely avid I was for the answers. I couldn't recall having a crush of this magnitude even in middle school.

Humorous and thoughtful, he liked to read, with a whimsical preference for classic trench coat detectives like Sam Marlowe. We shared a love of surfing and swapped stories about the Gulf versus the Pacific – he won that one, needless to say. I couldn't suppress a cackle of triumph when we each, a bit sheepishly, admitted to an appreciation of Jeff Foxworthy.

"I've got this cousin-."

"-_everybody_ has that cousin!"

We snorted with laughter; I felt almost giddy with the elation of justbeing with him.

Seth was a cabinetmaker, which somehow didn't surprise me – his hands were those of a working man, though less scarred and calloused than I would have expected, given his craft.

Ah, his hands. Watching their motions in the air as Seth described the stages of crafting a piece of fine furniture almost made me moan. I wanted those hands on _me_; I wanted to be the cause of that glow of satisfaction in his eyes as he talked.

"You love it, don't you?" I said faintly, "You make it sound so…sensual."

I was surprised to find that he was younger than me; he seemed so mature, with an underlying core of serenity that drew me like a magnet.

And there was an odd sensation of _darkness_ about him; not a sinister one, by any means, just an impression of…mystery. It was a quality of restrained wildness; of something hidden and potent. The possibilities of that feature made me suppress a shiver of anticipation; it called to me at a very basic level.

The things I had heard about rough sex didn't do much for me, but I knew that I appreciated a certain…vigor. I could return as good as I got in that matter. Somehow, I formed a conviction of an equal drive in the striking young man across the table. If anything, my attraction became even stronger.

And could he _eat!_ The enormous order of food simply disappeared, consumed with the tidiest of table manners. The woman whose engagement party I had inadvertently crashed evidently knew a thing or two about raising children. I had a feeling though, that a lot of his courteous behavior was simply a product of being a genuinely nice guy.

Even in the depths of my infatuation I found myself wondering _what's going to be the fatal flaw here? This man is simply too good to be true!_

Using professional interest as an excuse, I asked about joining his language class and felt my heart soar at the glad expression that immediately shone from those devastating eyes.

The informal classes were held at his house two nights a week and I was oddly jittery as I knocked at the front door the next evening, it seemed so intimate, somehow. That old Van Halen song _I'm Hot for Teacher_ was playing on a continuous loop in my head.

Was it my imagination or was his smile extra warm as he let me in? Not like much was going to happen with a bunch of observant school kids as chaperones. _Not like _anything _is going to happen_, I told myself sternly as he took my jacket, _this is for educational purposes only_.

Other than a few outstanding pieces that were obviously of his personal manufacture, the place was furnished with the typical bachelor mish-mash - a sofa that had seen better days a generation ago and a state-of-the art sound system and TV - still, for a single man's home, it wasn't too bad.

It seemed overly large for one person, but he explained, "I grew up here; it's still in the family. A few years ago, Mom and I moved in with Charlie over in Forks, but after I finished school and started working I came back. It _is_ way too big for me of course, but it feels right, somehow. There're a lot of memories here…my dad, mainly." He gave a quirky smile and a one-shouldered shrug. I liked that he acknowledged that kind of sentiment without apology.

Half a dozen youngsters of varying ages made up the rest of the attendees and after a bit of mildly awkward shuffling on everyone's part we settled down around the dining room table. It was easy to see that he was popular with his small class and the thought floated through my mind that he would make a good father someday…_There I go again!_

Covertly, I studied the play of Seth's muscles under his tight white t-shirt as he wrote on the homemade black board, then brutally wrenched my attention back to the lesson.

It was surprisingly fun to be the ignorant beginner. Quileute has an alphabet of thirty-seven characters, a bewildering eight of which are some form of 'K' sound. My stumbling attempts to pronounce the words on the first page of the little booklet I was handed proved to be a mirth-provoking icebreaker and by the end of the class a pleasant feeling of fellowship had developed.

The session wound up with the telling one of the traditional Quileute tales of the Old Times, when animals and humans were facets of the same beings. I watched and listened in fascination, my heart swelling with something I couldn't quite define at Seth's performance. His mobile face took on different expressions and his voice rose and fell as he acted out the characters of Raven, Mole, Bear and Wolf. He blushed adorably when I complimented him on his skill.

Increasing effort was required over the next couple of weeks to keep my emotions regarding Seth under wraps. At any gathering I would find my eyes instinctively searching for him, the mention of his name in an overheard conversation would bring all my senses to attention. I could easily have become as giggly as one of my pupils whenever I happened to meet him in the village.

Surely, it wasn't just wishful thinking that he was…interested, too. Sometimes there would be a thoughtful expression in his eyes, one that said _I know you_, an expression that vanished when he saw me looking. And there was the way his fingers would brush mine if he handed me something, how his hand would rest lightly on my back when he opened a door for me. Surely, surely….

During one of our early morning runs, he asked if I'd like to go for a hike some Sunday. With a show of casualness, I agreed, and the plan was made. I groaned with disappointment when I woke to the sound of rain that morning, like what else was new? It shouldn't have surprised me that we went anyway: the locals didn't let a little thing like _rain_ get in the way of plans. They would hardly have accomplished much if they did!

We stepped into another world; not a Disney forest, but one out of Tolkien. Vast ancient trees, carpeted in thick moss, huge primeval ferns, fleshy, lividly colored fungi the size of washing machines, and unexpected pockets of dense mist. All were held within the spell of a brooding, expectant silence; silence that was broken only by the sound of dripping water and the occasional scurry of an unseen animal. It was easy to believe in Sasquatch and windigos and ents in such a place.

Seth named the trees, read animal tracks for me and gave me the Quileute words for them all. As we clambered up hillsides and negotiated streams, it occurred to me that I had never seen a person who seemed so much a part of his environment.

For his part, Seth was fascinated by my description of my own home. Shaking his head, he laughed, "No hills _at all_? And all that sunshine, and warm water for swimming! That's so hard to imagine. But then, I think I was in fourth grade before I found out there were places where it didn't rain all the time!"

"Oh, it has its merits." I shrugged. "But this - this is _so_ beautiful! I'm glad I have you as a guide, though," I admitted, "these woods are…spooky.

"What kind of wild life is there around here?" I asked a little diffidently. "Does anything…big ever come close to the village proper?" He looked politely interested. "Oh, it's probably just my imagination, but sometimes if I'm out at night or go get wood for the heating stove…I feel like there's something…_there_, in the trees, watching. Not menacing, really, just_ there_ and, um, _big_." It sounded so lame when I said it out loud and I was sorry I had brought it up; maybe there was an ugly witch under my bed, too.

Seth's transparent features were bland and open as he quipped cheerfully that he'd never seen anything scarier than himself around La Push.

Once again, I had that breathtaking sensation of concealed power that seemed to lurk just under the surface of this intriguing man. He looked down at me, his face serious now, and the silence took on a certain expectant quality. He leaned closer and – a loud cawing and a flutter of black wings erupted in the stillness of the forest; startled, we jumped apart. The moment was broken.

"Sometimes a flock of crows is referred to as a "murder of crows". Did you know that?" He remarked easily.

I could have happily murdered that particular crow for its untimely intervention. We resumed our hike.

…………

"Um, what's The Lodge like? I mean, what should I wear? Is it nice?" I asked Irene, a little hesitantly. We had established a pretty chummy relationship and I felt the need of some girlfriend advice. Her response to the question both pleased and alarmed me.

"Seth Clearwater is taking you to _The Lodge_?" She exclaimed, too loudly for my comfort: we were sitting in the cramped teachers' lounge over a spartan lunch of yogurt and apples. Irene's black eyes glimmered eagerly; mercifully, she lowered her voice as she continued, "Things must be…_going well_ with you two! Are you guys…uh…?" She gave an encouraging smile, plainly hoping for a juicy admission.

"We're…not at that point yet, I guess." I muttered with a rueful grimace.

"Too bad," she commiserated, "but that could be a good sign. I mean, Seth's kind of played the field up till now; not in a bad way, mind you, he's just never gotten serious with anybody. Maybe he's, um, trying to make a statement or something."

A pleasant tightness formed in my chest at her suggestion, but I forced myself to say lightly, "Is that what an invitation to The Lodge means? He's serious?"

"We-ell, let's just say that the food is quite good, but you mainly go there for the romantic atmosphere."

Irene insisted on coming over after school to examine my rather limited wardrobe. I've always been the tomboy type and don't have many dress-up clothes, but after trying various possibilities, we hit on the right balance of alluring and lady like.

Our combined efforts paid off judging by the glow of admiration in Seth's dark brown eyes when I answered the door that evening. I was very glad that I'd taken such care: he looked amazing – all in black and his shirt was _silk_.

"Oh, my sister Leah bullied me into buying this," was the response to my artfully nonchalant comment. "I think she's grooming me for that androgynous, metrosexual look." Thus our evening started with a laugh; as if he could ever look like anything but a full-blooded, completely _male _creature!

The Lodge, despite the unprepossessing name, was _very_ romantic. Part of an upscale resort complex, the timber and stone building was invitingly rustic; inside the damasked tables, heavy cutlery and polished stemware made for an atmosphere of discrete luxury. My hopes, and my heart, rose: it was definitely the sort of place that said "serious" to me.

After some very pleasurable debate, I settled on crab-stuffed Grey Sole with a silky white wine sauce and Seth had a wild game mixed grill on an intriguing warm white bean salad. There was a thoughtful discussion with the waiter over the wine list and a bottle of Chateau Ste. Michelle Pinot Gris was produced and approved.

"I didn't know you knew about wine," I probed casually.

He gave me a conspiratorial grin, "I don't. I just asked myself, 'What would James Bond do?' Did you notice that I didn't really _say_ anything? I just asked the guy for recommendations and nodded a lot." Seth's playful humor and candor, as well as his refusal to take himself too seriously, had me utterly captivated. And so the evening went, on through the dessert, a lovely pear cake and gingerbread ice cream.

Late that night, I reluctantly said good bye and softly shut the front door. Dreamily, I hung my coat on the peg, not registering that it slipped off onto the floor. I drifted into the bedroom. Undressing took rather a long time since I stopped every few seconds to dwell on the memory of Seth's handsome face across the table, to review every word we had exchanged, examining each for meaning that would support my hope that his feelings were similar to mine.

Slowly, I pulled out the combs that held up my hair, imagining Seth's hands loosing the strands. Closing my eyes, I fell back on the bed and traced the edges of my mouth with my finger tips, reliving each detail of our good night kiss…

We had stood on the little porch, the air rife with anticipation. Seth bent his head as if to kiss my cheek.

_Okay, so he gets points for taking the subtle approach. Well, the hell with subtle._

Instinctively, I turned my face so that my mouth became the target instead. If I'd had the slightest doubt that I was in love - which I hadn't - that kiss would have convinced me.

His lips were strong, as I'd known they would be, and sensitive; I lost myself in his tongue stroking mine. I felt the firm column of his neck under my hands - how had they gotten there? His skin was as smooth as suede under my fingers. A little gravelly hum vibrated deep in his throat and his arms wrapped around me. Silently, I damned my coat for coming between us, but even through the heavy layers of fabric that separated us I could feel the solid strength of him. Without reserve, I molded my body to his. Seth's height and sheer bulk were a revelation: it was so rare for me to feel 'smaller than'; I found that it answered a previously unknown need in me.

With a simultaneous gasp, we separated just enough to look into each other's eyes. "Lily," he whispered in a tone of wonder, raising a hand to smooth over my hair. He tantalized me with tiny, nibbling kisses around the edges of my lips and I gave a faint moan of bliss as mouth claimed mouth yet again.

Unconsciously, I ran my fingers over Seth's eyelids and ears and the line of his jaw, drawing a picture of him by touch, and savoring the different textures I found. It occurred to me that I had never really known the true power of attraction. What I had felt for previous boyfriends hardly came under the same description as my feelings, physical and emotional, for Seth.

But something was off…"Seth! You're burning up!" Anxiously, I felt his forehead and checked for swollen glands, "How do you feel? Is your throat sore?"

"Seriously, I'm great! Never better, thanks to you," he chuckled softly. He tenderly took my hands and placed them flat on his chest, under his open jacket. Yes, he was_ very_ warm, but that heat seemed the most compelling thing I had ever experienced. Unbidden, my hands slid up and my arms wrapped around his neck as he explained, "The temperature thing, it's a, uh, genetic anomaly. Several of us have it."

"Hmmm." I murmured doubtfully, "I don't recall anything like that from any of my text books…I'll have to do some research." Then my rational mind was swallowed up by the sensation of Seth lightly sucking in my lower lip as a prelude to another searching kiss.

At last, reluctantly, we drew apart, murmuring a good night, followed by another kiss, light and gentle this time, a promise of things to come. Only an almost inhuman act of will kept me from grabbing him by the collar and dragging him into the house with me. Never one to be especially shy with the opposite sex, in this instance I was torn by wanting things between us to move forward _fast_ and wanting to draw out the painfully sweet anticipation.

Nevertheless, it was high time to take some action.

…………

**End notes:**

Sorry. I simply had to break here – because this was_ too dang long _for one chapter! Next time: The Party; The Conversation; The Cliff; The !!!!

Please don't make me beg for reviews…


	3. Chapter 3

**The Color of Rain**

Lily POV Part 2

Sternly commanding myself to be brave, I phoned Mrs. Clearwater – she told me to call her _Sue_ – to invite her and Chief Swan (_Charlie!_) to the party personally. I also asked Leah, who declined since she and her little family would be in San Francisco visiting friends that week.

"I'll come home soon," she assured me, her slightly husky voice sounding as cool as crushed ice, "We'll get together for lunch." I hoped I sounded more confident than I felt as I agreed to that plan. In actuality, I was more than a little intimidated by the prospect: in our brief meeting at the hand fasting, Seth's older sister had struck me as being rather formidable. And I was highly anxious to make a good impression, since it was plain she meant a lot to him.

Then there were his unofficial brothers.

Once my first dazzlement (maybe there isn't such a word, but it fit) over Seth had settled somewhat, I had taken note of his particular buddies. Like him, they were tall, _built_, and keen-eyed; not so much _different_ from the rest of the tribe as just _more_ somehow; brighter and more vital, as if possessed of an additional dimension. It was evident that there was a bond of more than usual friendship amongst them all.

Tactful (I thought) questioning of Irene had elicited only a slightly too-pat reference to "Men's Mysteries" and an adroit change of subject. I was still an outsider.

Anyhow, I had seen for myself how they all ate; I needed to work up a menu of sufficient abundance to accommodate them…

…………

I stood back and critically surveyed my work. After two full days of struggling over the fussy stove in my cramped kitchen I had managed to produce a pretty impressive array of dishes, if I did say so myself: a huge pot of Pork Chile Verde to make tacos, pans of cheese enchiladas, three kinds of homemade salsas, beans, a spiked fruit salad, guacamole. It all looked very inviting spread out on my Mexican pottery, supplemented with brightly colored plastic pieces from the dollar store.

The guest list had grown, which was gratifying but a little alarming as well. I had even included the produce manager from the Thriftway in Forks! It seemed the least I could do after he'd been so cooperative over my rather unusual requests.

The beer was chilled; the iced tea was made; everything was ready. Seth had been so…_cute _as he obligingly moved the table, ran back and forth, arranged chairs and helped me set up. We stood side-by-side at the door to meet the arriving guests; without thinking, I draped my arm around his waist. His head flicked toward me in a motion of surprise – had I been too forward? Perhaps it was too soon to stake a claim that way. I started to draw my hand away…He pulled it back and laced our fingers; his smile was warm and his eyes were downright _hot_ as he held mine with a long look, before turning to greet Jacob and Bella Black.

The men greeted each other with one of those complicated handshake things, while Bella and I rolled our eyes in female solidarity. The Blacks were people high on my list to impress: Seth often said that Jacob was his best friend and called Bella his 'sort-of-stepsister'. After exchanging a few words, I decided that they were worth knowing for their own sakes; Jake was warm and friendly, while Bella was a trifle shy but very appealing. They were so touchingly in love with each other that I would have been rather envious - before tonight, anyway.

A little bubble of happiness and anticipation rose and expanded under my lungs._ Yes, yes! It's really happening, _I rejoiced to myself. Somehow, I managed to act like a rational human being for the duration of the party, while my thoughts strained forward to the end of evening.

Thank yous, good byes and promises to give out the recipe for my famous (or maybe infamous was the word) chocolate-chipotle pie. At last everyone was gone. The smell of cumin and cilantro lingered in the air, as heady in their way as the feeling of expectation that pulsed between us as we faced one another over the worn wooden table.

"_Sal__ú__d!"_

We knocked back the shots of Patrón I had poured. We both gasped and sputtered and laughed at the jolt from the liquor and I found my eyes riveted as Seth licked a stray grain of salt from the corner of his mouth. My own tongue twitched with longing.

Hastily, I turned away, matter-of-factly outlining a plan of clean-up.

_Pull yourself together, Lily!_ I mentally shouted. _That's what this whole evening is about, to get him alone and make your move! _

Seth began to run water in the sink, offering to start washing if I'd bring the dishes. How could a man volunteering to do kitchen chores seem so impossibly endearing? Mechanically, I began stacking the platters and bowls together while eyeing the movement of his broad shoulders as he scrubbed.

_Now!_

Quietly I set down the things I had gathered and approached him from behind. My arms went around his waist, his torso was hard and ridged with muscles; this was like the other night, but so much better with no coats in the way. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes….

My lips found their way along the back of his neck; the thrill at my own audacity was very nearly as exciting as the feel of him under my hands and mouth. I drew in the scent of him – clean cotton, his soap, wood smoke from the fire pit outside and something indefinable that was just _Seth_.

Deliberately, he reached for the dish towel and dried off. He turned in my arms and rested his hands lightly on my waist. _Eyes really do smolder,_ floated through my mind as I smiled invitingly and rearranged things so that his grip was on my ass instead. He pulled me close so that we were thigh to thigh and hip to hip.

Slowly my hands slid up his chest and over his shoulders; I cradled the back of his head and leaned forward, intending to start out with a gentle kiss. Then the weeks of deferred longing rose up inside me; I lunged at him, making little squeaking gasps as I devoured his mouth almost desperately.

His response was everything I could have hoped_; _it was plain that his need was a great as mine. His strong hands roamed my body, holding me tight, then tighter. My fingers wound themselves into the short strands of his coarse black hair and his lips burned a trail along my throat.

Desire for him rose up like an elemental force, at that moment I knew beyond doubt that his physical drives matched mine. Irene's comment about Seth's previous history with women floated through my mind; it came to me that Seth had been…_searching_ and that his quest was not for variety, but for a particular intensity, a quality that had proved to be allusive until now.

The words _I want you _were rising to my lips when he stopped.

"Lily, before we go any farther, we need to talk." A tiny whimper escaped me as he untangled himself; he raised my hands to his lips then led me to one of the plain wooden chairs. I couldn't imagine what he wanted to talk about _now _– we seemed to be doing quite well without words – I just hoped it wouldn't take long; "farther" sounded promising.

Seth's usually pleasant expression was replaced by one of unease and a little spasm of anxiety squeezed my stomach at the sight of his discomfort.

"There's this…condition I, well, several of us have and…" I couldn't seem to wrap my brain around what he was saying, but in the Twenty-first century there is one major thing that leaps to mind at the word "condition". As I struggled to find the right words, stammering, trying to sound supportive, my thoughts raced: that explained the elevated temperature I had noticed, he had a fever. I couldn't be…infected, could I? And what did he mean by "several of us"? That opened up possibilities that I really didn't want to consider.

"Oh, uh, w-what kind of…_Several_ of you? D-does that mean you…," I floundered gracelessly. The friendliness of people like the Blacks suddenly took on a somewhat charged meaning.

He looked as horrified as I felt. He protested; he was obviously trying to regroup. But the words that came stumbling out were, if anything, even worse. Something to do with having magic in the blood and cold ones - whatever they might be - and wolves who become men and some mystic chief with a name like sushi. It sounded like the stories he told at language class mixed with Stephen King.

"I am one of these, a changeling, a wolf by nature…

With a good dose of Harry Potter tossed in.

"… a Protector of my people…

There was a buzzing in my head, making it hard to hear his words.

"… bound to this land by an ancient covenant." He said it solemnly, with an air of pride.

There was more in the same vein, but I stopped listening; my brain was on overload. Amid the conflicting emotions and half-formed retorts whirling inside me, only one thought was clear: _what a crock!_

My first reaction of near panic had morphed into bewilderment and then congealed into a resentful humiliation. How could I have been so wrong about this man and his intentions? What the hell had he been playing at, stringing me along like this? He had seemed so open, so sincere. And I had bought it, and thrown myself at him.

"Well, that's got to be the most _interesting_ brush off I've ever heard of," my voice sounded strange in my own ears, hardly like mine at all as I fought to control its trembling. "You know, I _really_ don't get you. You've been giving me _all_ the signals ever since we met. Why did you do that? Running; taking me out; introducing me to your friends; if you really weren't interested, why didn't you just-."

I choked to a stop with a huge, harsh gasp. Amidst all the feelings of outrage and hurt and injured pride, the worst was the sickening disappointment that the love I had let myself hope for had only ever been a construct of my imagination.

"Lily-," he tried to break in, but I wasn't having any more of this BS he was dishing out.

Bitter tasting words poured from my mouth, "Oh, now I get it! Is it a bet or something with those buds of yours? I suppose_ they _turn into wolves too?" Thinking of how all these "wolves" would laugh together at my expense was the last straw. I leapt to my feet, knocking over my chair and stormed through the house. I slammed the door behind me, and flounced out to my car. Seth followed close behind, remonstrating that he could explain.

"Just leave me the fuck alone, Seth Clearwater!" I spat at him, shaking his hand from my arm. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. After a couple of tries, the engine caught and I roared down the driveway. I could see Seth in the rearview mirror, looking, not triumphant, but distraught. What an actor that man was! I resolutely turned my eyes to the road.

Grimly, I remembered thinking that he seemed too good to be true. Well, got that right.

_But WHY?_

The words repeated themselves relentlessly in my weary mind as I paced my little house, and relived the whole bizarre conversation. I reexamined our friendship (using that word, even in my mind, made me shudder now) bit by bit and tried to see how I had misunderstood things – _him_ - so drastically. With a sort of desperation, I sought some excuse for his behavior, but the alternatives of drug addiction and complete mental derangement were hardly an improvement.

Every emotion under the sun had its way with me, but somehow left me dry-eyed in my anguish. It occurred to me that heartbreak wasn't limited to one part of the body: I felt as sore and bruised as if I had tumbled down a flight of stairs and my head was pounding. Finally, utterly exhausted, I fell asleep on top of the bed spread, fully clothed.

…………

Self pity is something I absolutely despise. _There are LOTS of people far, far worse off _I told myself over and over as I goaded myself through the next few days, struggling to appear normal. It was evident that everyone at the school knew something was up with me, I could tell by the elaborately diplomatic skirting of certain topics in the teacher's lounge and the covert glances I would intercept. Irene's usually snapping black eyes were soft with sympathy.

The final hour of the school day was my so-called conference period, time to meet with parents, tutor students and such. Normally I liked this schedule, because it made the day seem shorter and gave me a good block of time to accomplish things. Right now, I resented it: I had no appointments today and any time not spent actively teaching was just more time to brood. My brain was weary and actually _hurt_ from the endless replaying of Seth's and my last encounter.

My classroom, at least, was a sort of haven – Seth had never been there, so there were fewer painful associations. It was one place where I didn't find myself automatically searching for a glimpse of him. I was staring blindly at a pile of papers I should have been grading when a brisk knock sounded at my door.

The door opened to my listless summons, it was Emily Uley. A wave of surprise, and nervousness, coursed through me. She regarded me gravely for a long moment, then said quietly, "Seth Clearwater's heart is breaking over you."

Suddenly I found I could cry after all. Bitter tears stung my eyes, but at least I didn't disgrace myself by completely breaking down.

"_His_ heart!" I sniffled petulantly, "You don't know the things he said!"

"Not exactly, no. But I can guess." Her tone was matter-of-fact.

"Does everybody but me know about Seth's…delusions? Or-or do your people think he's, um, like a visionary or something?" I was taken aback by the cold expression that greeted my questions.

"Do we _think_ he's '_like_ a visionary'? Seth is what he is." Her face was stern and her eyes flashed challengingly. "So, are we the Noble Savages and you're the Benevolent White Scholar, studying our quaint belief-system?"

"Now wait just a minute-" I started to protest, but was immediately cut off.

"No, you wait. College degree or not, who are _you_ to say what's true and what isn't? I expected better of you than that."

I had risen when Emily entered the room; I sat again with a thump. Of all the possibilities I had entertained, the idea that Seth had been telling the _truth_ hadn't been one of them. Gulping, I opened my mouth to object to her judgment, but nothing came out at first. I could hardly blame Emily for thinking I was being patronizing: that was how I had behaved. Inwardly, I shriveled in shame.

"Sorry," I muttered contritely, "I didn't mean to be disrespectful; I'm not that way, really." Did that sound lame or what? It was suddenly very important to make this woman understand, she was plainly an emissary of sorts.

"It's just that, that night, I had sort of - well not 'sort of' - I _seriously_ came on to him and I thought that he was…" Emily made a little sound of comprehension as I floundered on, "I guess I didn't know what to think. At first I thought he must be playing me, but that just didn't seem right, so…"

"Insanity is better than lying, hmm? Okay." Her tone was dry but she had visibly relaxed. "Under the, uh, circumstances, I probably would have reacted pretty much the same way. And…to tell the truth, I didn't believe it either, at first, and I grew up around these things.

"May I sit?" she said a little pointedly, "we have a lot to talk about." Hurriedly, I moved to take up the pile of books occupying the visitor's chair.

Emily stopped me with a hand on my arm, "What are these?"

The books were what I had been able to find in the school library: naturalist books on wolf habits; a home-bound collection of tribal wolf stories (I had winced over that one, Seth had a copy at home); some Xeroxes of National Geographic articles; some DVDs.

"_Dances with Wolves_?" Was she smiling? I was on the ruined side of her face and could not be certain.

"I-I, well, I just…couldn't keep from hoping that things might…I guess he's sort of a habit with me now, and-and I thought…" my voice trailed away. Regrouping, I spoke up more firmly, "I figured if I'm in love with a crazy man, I might as well be as, um, informed as possible."

"Seth is one of the sanest people I've ever met." It was said simply, and with confidence, but I wasn't entirely convinced yet.

"Wow, I'm really confused. How do you know this? S-Seth told you?"

"Er, not Seth; it was Sam, of course. He was the first to _phase, _as it's called"_._

"Sam…_first_…phase?" That statement had a lot of implications. Emily regarded me expectantly, making that little paddling motion with her hand that people give when there's a conclusion to be drawn.

"There are _more_?" I gasped.

"Well, think about it, wolves are pack animals." There was a humorous twitch to her mouth.

"O-ohh! Those friends…they're all so tight and…So I guess everyone _does_ know but me." I was already seated but I found myself wishing I could sit again, as if that would help steady me.

"No, hardly anyone, only the people it directly affects: the wolves, their…mates and now you. There are rumors of course, some of them pretty funny, actually, but I believe the general conclusion is that it's an off-shoot of the traditional Wolf Societies. Women aren't supposed to know about that, but then, we have our own mysteries."

Emily's air of assurance and pride as she spoke gave me a little pang of envy: she was so certain of her place in her world. My fingers practically itched to take notes as she told me of certain things, using intriguing words like phasing and imprinting, Alpha and Beta. All in all, it was a heck of a lot different than the disastrous conversation of the other night.

"And you, you're…what? Like the den mother?" An incongruous vision of all those strapping men in blue uniforms and little caps floated through my head.

"That's as good a way to put it as any, I guess. Sometimes it's like being caught in an endless_ Farside_ cartoon," she said rather ruefully, but with obvious affection. I could only nod in bewildered agreement. "I should leave the rest of this for Seth to tell you himself, that's his privilege."

"If he even wants to see me again, after the way I …" I couldn't bring myself to finish.

"Oh, I don't imagine that will be a problem." Emily gave me a mischievous smile and her eyes shone with…welcome. In a queer shift of vision, I suddenly saw her face as whole and unmarred. "Well," she continued briskly, "You've been given a lot to think about just now, I, uh, I always find that a good, brisk walk is the best way to clear my mind. That place along the cliffs is nice, what we call The Home of Mists, you can see James Island from there."

Her tone had an odd quality to it, but I couldn't be bothered to interpret it just now; the idea of some fresh, cold air and physical activity was incredibly appealing. I hadn't had the heart to go running without Seth and realized how much I felt the lack of exercise. Stopping at home just long enough to change shoes, I took off in accordance with the directions Emily had given me.

Once there, the violence of the weather took me by surprise, but I couldn't bring myself to leave just yet – the blustering wind and the roar and crash of the waves against the cliff were soothing in their way, reflecting my unruly emotional state of the last few days. I plodded on, hood drawn tight around my face, head bent into the gale, as if trying to outrun all my confusion.

Okay, maybe this wasn't such a good idea; I could barely see where I was going with the rain lashing my face. The gusts of wind were disorienting me and I had a sudden sickening sensation of vertigo. One misstep and-

From behind me came a sound that made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck, a long, drawn out howl that jolted me with a current of primal terror. Without knowing how it happened, I was facing the forest, watching a nightmare vision loping toward me: a huge - _impossibly_ huge - sandy-colored wolf.

My legs wanted to run, but could only stagger; a scream formed in my throat and died there. The giant creature leapt. _Impending death is causing me to hallucinate. _The wordsfloated dispassionately through my mind as I watched the unthinkable unfold: the beast shrank in some places, elongated in others; the shaggy fur was transformed into smooth bronze skin. The muzzle with its fierce teeth and lolling red tongue was absorbed into a familiar face…

Seth.

The impact of the collision knocked the breath out of me; I gasped harshly, my attempts to draw air hurt my lungs. Strong arms seized me and a solid body molded itself around me as it rolled the two of us away from the cliff. We came to a stop.

Looking up into his concerned dark eyes, I sputtered out breathless fragments of sentences, "That was – it _was_…you! It's all…_true_! I-I didn't know you'd be so-" I couldn't continue and a merciful brownout took me, for a few seconds? Minutes? Longer? I couldn't tell. Chilly rain dashing against my face brought me back to myself.

"Can you get off me, please?" I snapped; I didn't sound very gracious, but I was past caring at the moment. It was one thing to know _intellectually_ that the man I loved could turn into a mythical beast at will, quite another to be faced with the reality of such a thing. Had Emily mentioned that the wolves were so_ big_? And so ferocious looking?

"Oh, uh, yeah, of course!" At least he sounded, and looked, as nonplussed as I felt. He scrambled to his feet and solicitously held out a hand to help me up. Still dazed, my eyes traveled from his bare feet, along his well-shaped legs to his-

_Oh _my_! Even in this cold, he's so…CRAP! I'm _staring_ at his dick! _Mortified, I wrenched my gaze to his face; a fleeting smirk there was quickly replaced with an expression of concern.

Blushing wretchedly, I stammered, "Y-you're naked." Just call me the soul of eloquence.

"My clothes don't just pop in and out of existence when I change, you know!" He retorted. Emily hadn't mentioned that part either. Involuntarily, my eyes roamed over his back and ass as he turned away and fumbled at a small bundle tied to his ankle. He straightened and pulled up a pair of track shorts, deftly knotting the drawstring. A sideways glance as good as said, "I know you were looking." I tossed my head haughtily, trying to cover my embarrassment.

The cold and rain, along with that ferocious wind, were making me shiver violently as Seth helped me to my feet. He looked at me worriedly. "We better get you home, where're you parked?"

By now I was so chilled that all I could do was shake my head; with a quick summing up, he ordered, "Hang on," and swept my up in his arms. A fleeting pang of regret that I was too cold and miserable to enjoy the experience was banished by alarm as Seth took off running through the forest. I couldn't help a little shriek here and there as it seemed that we were barreling straight into the thick-trunked trees, but he avoided them almost magically. Or maybe it really was magic.

Before I had even had a chance to really accustom myself to this novel mode of travel we were slowing down in front of my little house. Seth seemed reluctant to set me down and I had to clear my throat meaningfully. Under other circumstances I would have been pleased to play this out; as it was, I was freezing, drenched and still reeling from the strange twists my life was suddenly taking.

As I mounted the three steps to the little porch, I was acutely aware of the forlorn gaze on my back; I turned, and without meeting his eyes, I murmured, "You better come in and, um, get warm."

In sock feet I squished my way to the bathroom and grabbed a stack of towels, which I presented to the large man dripping in the little hallway. The sopping track shorts did little in the way of concealing Seth's…attributes I observed, before marching off to pull myself together.

A little defiantly, I donned my rattiest, if most comfortable, lounging-around outfit and simply combed my damp hair straight back. Previously, I had gone all out with my efforts to charm, but just now I felt like he could take me at my plainest or not at all. In spite of Emily's encouragement, I couldn't help but wonder which it would be.

Seth straightened up hastily from tending the little heating stove as I reentered the living room, a cup of hot tea in either hand.

"That was quick," I said, impressed at his skill, "I still haven't got the knack of fire building, it wasn't something I needed much at home." Ironic, calling Rockport "home", when my world centered around the troubled-looking young man seated in my rocker, hands circling the mug I had passed him.

The silence was becoming strained as we sipped at our tea. I peeked at Seth from the corner of my eye and saw that he was looking back, our gazes abruptly shifted to opposite sides of the room. There had not been the opportunity to notice before - he had several intriguing tattoos. I was no judge, indeed I'd hardly ever thought of such things before, but they appeared to be of notable artistry. I had a sudden, deep longing to explore them, up close and personal.

The knowledge of just how naked he was under the towel he had wrapped around his waist wasn't helping.

He was the first to speak, "Lily, please believe me, I wasn't trying to make fun of you or-or tell you I don't want you, because I really, really do, you know." His humble tone and remorseful expression wrung my heart, maybe he _had_ felt as bad as I did.

Bemused, I said, "So…wolves who turn into men, huh?"

'It's kind of a lot to take in, I know-" he began; I waved him to silence.

"Let me finish," I needed to get this all out. "I'm…ashamed of myself, Seth. All my life I've wanted, wished, _hoped_ that…well, magic was real; that some people knew more about certain things and had access to power that the rest of us didn't. That's a big reason I went into anthropology.

"Then I find it – and I just push it away. I-I acted _narrow-minded_!" Seth's eyes were wide and wary as I continued, "I'm sorry I accused you of trying to make a fool of me, you've never been anything but super nice and friendly to me, so I don't have any reason to think that you'd try to make fun of me.

"The worst part is that I was afraid I'd blown it with you by being such a bitch about it all." My voice trembled as I recalled the torment of the past few days, had it really been such a short time? There, I had laid it all out.

_I really, really do want you, you know. _His previous words rang in my head, I could feel my spirits churn with hope that it might be alright after all.

"Lily, it was entirely my fault, I should have picked a better time to bring it up, before things got so…heated. I wouldn't blame you for thinking I was crazy."

Well, that was handsomely said, I had to concede. With a shaky laugh, I responded, "We-ell, I was trying to decide between running away, back to Texas, and just taking you, crazy and all, when Emily came to see me. She told me…some things. Then she mentioned that she liked to walk up on the cliffs to help clear her mind. That's how I ended up there today. I probably wouldn't have gone if I'd known how the weather would be-."

With a snort of laughter, he broke in, "Sam sent me to patrol that same area. I think we've been set up! Oh, um, everybody's kind of in everyone else's business here, sorry."

At that moment I could hardly have cared if CNN was delving into my love life, I was so happy and thankful.

The wood fire was starting to take the chill off the room but I was still shivering periodically, Seth came to sit beside me on the sofa and put his arms around me. His warmth was heavenly and the feel of his embrace was like a kind of homecoming. The atmosphere had lightened as we cleared away the misunderstanding, but now the silence thickened with a different kind of tension.

Seth shifted his weight, I snuggled closer; he shifted again, seeming uneasy. I was about to ask what was wrong, when I felt IT. A tickly thrill surged through me, followed by the impulse to giggle, which I stifled. Poor guy! He was trying so hard not to rush me – little did he know.

Without another thought, I flung my arms around his neck and crushed my lips against his. Just so there'd be absolutely no doubt about my intentions, I pressed my thigh into the swelling heat between his legs. For the merest instant he stiffened in surprise, then pulled me to him tightly, only to release me with a muttered apology, "I keep forgetting how much stronger I am than most people."

"You don't have to be so careful with me, I won't break," I reassured him, he had no idea how his strength and power excited me. We fell on each other's mouths with hard, hungry kisses, our hands caressing one another almost frantically. The relief of _finally_ feeling his touch on my bare skin nearly brought tears to my eyes; a tiny cry was pulled from my throat as he mouthed my breast through my shirt.

"Lily, sweetheart," he whispered-

_He called me sweetheart! _The words sang in my mind, almost, but not quite, drowning out the rest of his sentence: "-we can make each other feel a whole lot better if we go into the bedroom." My answer was to scramble to my feet and hold out my hand. Seth rose, unconsciously gripping the towel around his waist.

"You won't be needing that," I teased lightly, prying his fingers open. The towel slipped, but only so far. "Quite a coat rack you have there," I couldn't help saying; hectic laughter burst from us simultaneously. Deftly I plucked it away and grabbed his wrist, practically yanking him after me to my room.

There he paused, looking self conscious, "I, uh, didn't bring any, um…," he said hesitantly.

"I have some," I replied smugly, opening the nightstand drawer and removing the box I had carried in my purse the night of the party. It had very nearly been thrown away on several occasions since then, but somehow I hadn't been able to completely give up hope that its contents would be needed.

"You've got me at kind of a disadvantage," he pointed out with a smile. Slowly, he lifted my shirt and tossed it away. I found myself amazed, and touched, at the amalgam of tenderness and passion in his expression as he gazed at me, "You're beautiful," he whispered. The sentiment echoed in my mind as I looked at him: he was everything the word "male" implied. The playful mood drained away, desire pulsed between us and we reached for each other.

Being with Seth was a revelation. With other men there was a background awareness of thought: they considered, as I did, such things as technique, the likelihood of scoring, how fast to get to that point. But there was a single minded intensity and focus to the way Seth caressed me, he was completely in the moment, deeply absorbed in exploring my body.

His large hands were hardened with work but their touch was intuitive and sure. I laid my own hands over his and pressed, wanting him to hold me tighter and he did. A steely arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me in closer; his mouth and breath were blazing hot as he kissed and licked my breasts. My fingers wove themselves into his hair and I arched my body to direct his attention to my nipples. My eyes were riveted to his face as he suckled me vigorously and I cherished the contrast of the deep russet color of his lips against my pale skin.

A little whine of protest sounded from my throat as he detached, a whine that turned to a sigh as his lips continued on a meandering journey downward. He dropped to his knees and inch by inch eased my leggings away, then an arm slipped between my thighs and reached around; a hand cupped my ass. Seth looked up at me, then very deliberately made a point of his tongue and drove it into my cleft. Then again. And again.

My legs would no longer hold me up and I collapsed onto the mattress. Seth's eyes glowed like black coals at my response and he sinuously followed my motions as I crawled backwards on the bed to give him room. With agonizing slowness, he placed a line of lingering kisses along my inner thigh before burying his face in my source. A whispered, "So go-o-od," trickled from my mouth in response to the maddened flicking of his tongue.

Then he growled.

The sheer primitive passion of that noise squeezed the breath from my lungs as my own desire rose immeasurably; my conviction that his needs and wants were the same as mine was confirmed by the sound. Perversely, I had a twinge of mild regret: there were so many things I wanted to do with this man, but I was stricken with the surety that if I didn't have Seth Clearwater inside me _right now_, I. Would. Absolutely. Die.

Murmuring something, I took his face in my hands and drew him up to hover over me, kissing him fiercely and tasting my own essence on him. The velvety heaviness of his erection rested on my belly, twitching in response to my light, teasing touches all around it. With a muffled exclamation, I wrenched my lips from his and gave a nod at the pile of condoms on the nightstand.

Seth shifted to his side and I took the little packet from him; the sheer heat of his hard-on was startling, but felt so right in my hand as I rolled on the condom. The warmth building in my center was a match for his as I directed him to my entrance. Part of me wanted to scream my need for him to hurry as he bored into me slowly, filling me with his length and thickness, while another part wanted the breathless anticipation to never end.

A long, slow thrust and then another; his eyes held mine, watching my response. I could feel him holding back, trying to judge how much of his strength to use. "How do I make this good for you?"

The simple words made me tremble with want and at last I could speak my truth, "Take me…hard, I-I like that. I want to feel…all of you, deep inside me."

With a muffled groan he fell to, claiming my body, grinding into me and answering my need. Cries and moans and huffs filled the room, adding a soundtrack to our striving. My fingers dug into his backside as I surged to meet him and he slid an arm under my waist, lifting me slightly so he could enter me more deeply still. Fiery pressures swirled in my core, building to an unbearable pitch. Then the tension snapped and fragmented into waves of liquid white heat.

As I came back to myself, the need to possess him in turn overwhelmed me. With a shift and a shove, I rolled him over, exulting in his cry as my weight bore down on him. I reveled in this perspective, looking from above at Seth's flushed face and fiercely glittering eyes, in them I could see a primitive kind of need that exactly matched mine. His hands rolled and squeezed my breasts, then slid down to clasp my hips, guiding me and supporting me as we plunged together.

"Show me…" he whispered hoarsely, his dark eyes catching mine then focusing on where our bodies joined. More excited than I would have thought possible, my fingers slid into my slit, stroking my knot in time to the pounding of his cock.

"Lily!" The sound of my name forced through clenched teeth sent me over; I collapsed on Seth's chest, sobbing aloud with the expanding ripples of ecstasy. A few more mighty thrusts, then, with a rasping bark, Seth jolted and shuddered into me with the force of his climax. I clutched him and the pleasure that swept me as I felt his release was as deeply satisfying in its way as the orgasms he had given me.

Panting and sighing, we lay huddled together, trembling with little aftershocks and murmuring fragmented endearments as our breathing slowed. I was sprawled across him in complete boneless contentment, when I felt the need to bring up something that was nudging the back of my mind, "Um, Emily mentioned something about - she called it 'imprinting'? Did you, I mean, is that -?"

He gave a little resigned sigh, "No, I didn't imprint. I just…no. Disappointed?"

"Huh uh," I couldn't help a little laugh, "no disrespect intended, but that sounds a little, um, creepy?" It wasn't something I had ever given a whole lot of thought to, but I very much wanted a man to be drawn to me for more than my reproductive capabilities. Though I had to admit that Emily, and the other pack mates I had observed, seemed more than happy with what fate had provided.

"Well, it's certainly _different_, from what I've been through." I stared at him. "In the minds of my brothers, it's a wolf thing," he explained hastily. "I…never really wanted that, you know, imprinting. I wanted to do it the old fashioned way, to have a-a choice. Find the right girl, let the relationship grow…

"But the joke's on me, I guess. That night at Mom and Charlie's party, I saw you…and it turned out I didn't have a choice after all."

I propped myself up on an elbow to get a better look at him. "You mean, like love at first sight?" He gave an apologetic shrug and nodded sheepishly.

My mind stuck on how hard I had tried to play it cool, he'd been trying hard, too, it seemed. We'd both been struck by love, and had been afraid to show it. So much wasted time and effort! I started to laugh, just a touch of hysteria in my voice. Seth looked quite alarmed at my reaction to his admission, which only made me laugh the harder.

"What a relief!" I gasped, "I thought it was just me!" Seth blinked, and gave a chuckle, then he was laughing along with me, holding me against him as we rolled in the sheets, intoxicated by our own mirth.

"Just think, we could have been doing this all along!" he chortled, touching his lips my forehead, the tip of my nose, my chin, the hollow of my throat. Then his laughter died away, replaced by something dark and full of wanting; he ran a hand over my hip and rounded my ass, pulling my pelvis in to press against his.

"Already?" an involuntary gasp of surprise - and gratification - burst out of me: he was fully aroused.

With a smirk, he said, "There are, um, certain aspects to being a wolf…Besides, you and I need to make up for lost opportunities."

"The future's looking better and better," I murmured to him between kisses, kisses that became longer and more searching as we went on. I couldn't help wriggling against him as my passion rose to meet his.

"There's no rush, sweetheart; we have all the time there is. This round we're going to…take it slow." The words were breathed into my ear and punctuated with little nips; with a fingertip Seth slowly drew a wavy line between my breasts, down to my navel which he circled lazily.

"Absolutely," I agreed fervently. With a sudden movement, I rolled him over on his back, straddling his stomach; my fingers were laced with his and I held his hands above his head, pressing them firmly into the mattress. Brow to brow, I looked him straight in the eye, assuring him earnestly, "And it starts with me working you over good!"

I sat up and gave the matter some mock-serious consideration, "I think…I'll begin…right…_here!_"

…………

**End notes: **Long, yes - but worthwhile, I hope!

As a general rule, I have mixed feelings about alternate POVs that follow the same material so closely ( tho' I've written some before now!), but these two were **so** sweet that I just couldn't help myself. Anything to live vicariously, I guess *grin*

Funny thing, in MS I had made a one sentence mention of S's girlfriend _Lily_ which I used just because I think it's a pretty name, then after I "published" TCoR, I came across 2 or 3 other fics, all by different writers, with Seth having a girlfriend named Lily/Lillie! Weird, huh? Guess it was meant to be…

In case anyone is wondering, the food mentioned in this, and all my fics, is indeed in my repertoire!

Suggested listening: _Come Rain or Come Shine_, Ray Charles' version.


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